Voodoo Child
by Atlas Arrow
Summary: Sequel to 'Vietnam is Complicated'. In the present, and after the events of Dallas, Seance heads back to Vietnam seventeen years after he left. In the past, his son grows up and struggles to cope with his psychic powers.
1. Chapter 1

November 22, 1963

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing! Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!

"You answer it," muttered Séance, still half asleep.

"I don't know the code," Xuan murmured back, "I can't answer it without that-type-in-code...thingy."

"I thought I taught it to you last week."

"I think I would've remembered that.

"Ah well, it can just ring then."

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing! Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!

"I think," sighed Xuan, "That this person is very persistent."

"They can suck it up," insisted Séance as he placed his pillow over his head, "I'm going back to sleep."

"Good luck."

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing! Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!

"Whoever is calling me," said Séance through gritted teeth, "should prepare to die."

(Unless they were already dead. He had been called by dead people a few times in the past. Only thing to do in those situations was to get a priest and exorcise their asses.)

"You're cheerful this morning," yawned Xuan.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing! Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!

"How cheerful am I supposed to be?" he groused, "I get woken up at four a.m to answer the phone."

"It's two," noted Xuan as he started to kick away the covers.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing! Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!

"I was having a lovely dream about dancing cockroaches too," groused Séance.

He saw Xuan raise an eyebrow at him as he shuffled over to the phone. He picked it up slowly. Just as he was about to give a testy 'hello' he heard the person on the other side of the phone yell;

"Klaus? Where are you?"

(Kraken.) Séance had been woken up at two in the morning to do something for Kraken. Judging by the tone of his voice it was serious, and he couldn't risk Kraken getting killed before they saved J.F.K. That would just be counter-productive. He could still give him hell though.

"Codenames man!" he said nastily, "You gotta call me by my codename."

"Now Klaus!" Kraken practically screamed, "I've got more vampires then I know what to do with and two men down!"

Oh dear. He was probably talking about Gia Long. Okay, that had been a long shot. It had seemed like a good idea at the time though. You get a mummy-emperor-sorcerer to fight you enemies. So what if he might turn against you? (Ah well, such was life.)

Now he had to think about why Kraken was talking to him. He was probably asking about the helicopter. The helicopter had been his pride and joy for several years. Some people valued cars. He liked flying death machines. Séance also liked However; he supposed that he still technically owed him one for the whole smuggler situation.

"Roger Serpent," he yawned, "Things got real hot real fast here, and it's a big jungle. Ghost out."

He turned around at Xuan who had started to stretch. It had come as a surprise to him that dead people actually slept. In the past Séance had thought that he was quite the expert in the subject of ghosts. He was learning all sorts of new things about them now that he was married to one though.

"Gotta take the helicopter out," he yawned as he rifled through his wardrobe for something decent.

(Damn the sixties and their shit fashion sense!)

"Think you could fly it for me while I go and save my brother's sorry ass?" he said, trying and failing to balance while putting on his pants.

"Why not?" shrugged Xuan, "At least you taught me **that**."

"Hey," frowned Séance from the floor, "Don't say it like that. Helicopter driving is very difficult."

"I mastered it in two minutes."

"That's just because you can go all ghosty with the machine," said Séance, getting to his feet.

"You just voodoo it."

"Touché."

He went picked up a shirt with a lightning bolt on it. It would have to work.

"I don't feel comfortable leaving Klaus home alone though," Xuan said after awhile.

"Hoa and Pogo are here," he said, pulling the shirt over his head.

"Hoa needs her sleep and Pogo's working in the shop."

As he had been told repeatedly by Pogo, Hoa, and Xuan, the shop was no place to keep a kid. This had surprised him because his son seemed to love all of the sharp tools and sparks that randomly flew out. Still, it was better to just agree then to have an angry chimp, an old but fierce woman, and a poltergeist on his hands.

"We'll take him with us then," said Séance.

"We're taking him to the battlefront?" said Xuan in disbelief as he shrugged one of his jackets on.

"Knowing Diego it'll be over before we get there," Séance said as he fished around for his sunglasses.

"Then why are you going?"

"Well," said Séance as he put them on and started down the stairs, "Gotta go and pick him up. We've got a president to save, remember?"

There was some silence as Séance picked up Klaus. (Haha, Klaus picked up Klaus.) Carefully he put him in his carrier and started out. Séance wasn't very good socially, so he didn't address the silence until he heard Xuan say;

"So, you are coming back after that, right?"

Séance chose his words carefully before replying.

"Xuan," he said, "I will try. I'm not bullshitting this. I'll try but I can't make any guarantees. Time travel is just a teensy bit shit so I'm not exactly sure how this is going to go. Rest assured though. I have absolutely no desire to go back to my present. It appears that my past was more interesting then that life ever was. Well, it's better anyway."

He patted his son on the head. Klaus had a rather bleary expression on his little face. (Made the whole thing sorta cute.)

"This is my life right now," he said, "I don't want to be part of the Umbrella Academy anymore. I never did. It's all full of messed up people getting more messed up by the year. Well, I'm comfortable with how screwed-up I am **now**. I'd like to keep it that way."

Leaning over she kissed him lightly on the lips before grinning.

"You'd better come back," she said, "Or I'm coming for you in seventeen years. Got it?"

"Hey," he said as he climbed into the helicopter, "Scout's honor."

"You were never a Boy Scout," she said as she slipped into the machine and made it take off.

"That's why they're still honorable."


	2. Chapter 2

August 18, 1967

A small boy crouched on the ground near a large garbage can. At most he appeared to be about five. That was the only excuse for the fact that he'd gotten dirt all over his rather old-looking clothes. A smudge of dirt decorated his face in a squiggly line as well, looking like it had put it there on purpose. The boy scratched the back of his already unruly black hair with his dirty hand. This turned his hair's dark hair a little lighter. He didn't seem to mind the dirt though, which in this case turned to out to be a very good thing.

The boy dragged a stick through the dirt with a look of concentration. To a casual observer it looked like the boy was just playing in the mud. If you stood over his shoulder though, you could see that the boy was writing his name. He wasn't particularly neat about it, but he was dedicated. Once he finished he frowned at it and cocked his head.

Earlier in the day he had learned to write his name. It hadn't been easy. His teacher had had to go and look up the correct symbols for it. The boy had been rather aware of the snickers from the other children. It had taken her half an hour to figure out what it was. Not that he could write it very well anyway. He had terribly sloppy handwriting. His great-grandmother said it came from his father. Then again, she said a lot of things came from his father.

"Whatcha' playing in the dirt for, dirt?"

The boy looked up to see about three other boys his age and older standing around him. He frowned and put the stick down.

"I'm sorry you failed another grade Binh," he asked.

"Shut up."

"You're nine aren't you? That's…four years now?"

"Shut up!" Binh said, louder, "Your name isn't even a name. How do you like that?"

"It's a name," the boy said quietly, looking down at the ground.

"No it isn't."

For a minute the boy didn't say anything. It was like he was listening to someone speaking to him.

"It's not a name here," the boy admitted after awhile, "But it **is **a name."

"It's a stupid name."

"I kinda like it."

"Nobody cares."

The boy looked at him and shrugged.

"I don't really care what you think."

Binh scowled. The boy could see that he was getting ready to try another tactic.

"Figures," he asserted, "Your name's probably your dad's fault anyway. I heard he was a G.I. That true dirt?"

"No he wasn't," the boy said, looking a little upset.

"Then why didn't he stick around?" Binh continued, "My mom said that he knocked your mom up then left."

"It…it wasn't like that," the boy said, once again looking like he was listening to someone else.

He was on the verge of tears though. Binh noticed this and nudged the rest of them. They'd get a reaction after all.

"Why isn't he here then?" gloated Binh.

"Don't talk about my dad," the boy said, biting his lip.

"Why not? Ashamed or something?"

The boy dropped the stick and stood up. Looking at the bullies he brushed his pants off angrily.

"If you don't shut up right now," the boy said, "Then something real bad is going to happen to you."

All the boys laughed. Binh was pretty strong for a nine year old. The boy, however, was quite scrawny and small for a five year old.

"I mean it," the boy said quietly in an over-dramatic voice, "The spirits of darkness hate bullies."

This just made the boys laugh even harder.

"Bring it then," Binh said, brushing away tears that were forming from how hard he was laughing.

The boy glared at the boys for a minute before closing his eyes. The other boys stopped laughing as the lid to the garbage can banged open suddenly. They stared at it for a moment, then they turned back to the boys.

"The spirits of darkness hate bullies," the boy repeated, again over-dramatically.

As soon as he stopped speaking large boxes, bags, and other refuse flew out, effectively pelting them. The boys screamed and ran, but the garbage kept flying after them. Now it was the boy laughing so hard that he was starting to cry.

"That's enough," a feminine voice said firmly.

The boy opened his eyes and looked at his mother.

"But…but they said that-"

"I know," his mother said, "You might recall that I was here. But that's enough."

Looking disappointed the boy sighed heavily. The pieces of garbage stopped in mid-attack and flew back into the garbage can. The lid banged shut after them. Despite the fact that the garbage had left the boys kept running. The boy nodded and smiled at them, satisfied. His face fell when he saw his mother's expression.

"I was just-"

"You were just getting into fights. Try to learn to let some things go," his mother sighed, patting him on his head.

The boy looked at the ground.

"…it's just that…"

"What?"

"Never mind."

"You can tell me," his mother said kindly, getting on her knees, ignoring the fact that the dirt would probably ruin her blue silk dress.

"Where is my dad?" he said forlornly.

His mother sighed.

"It…it's complicated."

"You said he loved you," the boy said accusationally, "You said he loved me too. Why'd he leave then?"

His mother gave a sad smile.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"Yeah," the boy sighed.

"Then wait awhile," she said, "When you're a little older then I'll explain all of it. Just know…he did love you. He said you were funny and that you took after him. He took you everywhere he went."

The boy cheered up a little. His mother looked slightly relieved. She got up, no dirt stains on her dress, and took his hand.

"Let's head home," she said.

"Okay," he said.

The two of them walked down the dirt path. A few people gave the boy some odd looks. One woman paused and looked at him quizzically.

"Does your mother know where you are?" she asked.

The boy nodded.

"Are you sure?" she asked, still doubtful, "You're awfully young to be alone."

"My house is just right there," he said brightly.

The woman nodded, finally satisfied. The boy continued on his way until he reached a small house tucked into a corner of the neighborhood. He tried the door and pouted.

"I think Grandma locked the door."

"Shouldn't she be inside?" his mother asked.

"I think she's getting groceries or something," he said.

His mother contemplated the door for a moment.

"Don't worry," she said, "I'll take care of it."

She smiled as she went through the wood of the door. The boy waited for a minute until the door was unlocked from the inside. He smiled as his mother opened the door for him and he trotted inside. The smile slipped off as his mother closed and locked the door again.

"Are you going to tell Grandma about my fight?"

She looked thoughtful.

"As long as it doesn't happen again…"

"It won't!" the boy assured her.

She smiled down at him before saying;

"That's what you said last time Klaus."

"But that was about this time!" he argued, "I said I won't do it next time and that's the same as the last next time, because they're both **next time**."

Klaus nodded proudly to himself.

"You really do take after your father," Xuan sighed.


	3. Chapter 3

November 22, 1980

Everyone stared after Space as he turned to leave.

"Space," Kraken said worriedly, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Don't do this. Don't go back to the jungle."

"I never left," Space said cryptically before blasting off in a large cloud of smoke and dust.

What's that up there in the sky? Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No! It's an overweight monkey man who's off sobbing because the girl he's in love with actually loves him enough kill for him. Most people would be thrilled by that, but not Space. That was irritating. Not to mention the fact that Séance had had to sit through ten minutes of his life listening to them argue back and forth in the ambulance. Talk about awkward.

Séance didn't really know why Kraken was so concerned about Spaceboy running off, **again**. It wasn't like the two of them were close or something. Then again, they had appeared to be having a heart-to-heart when he'd seen them last. It appeared to have consisted of talking. (Generally heart-to-hearts between members of the Hargreeves family consisted of the two members trying to rip out each other's hearts. Great fun to watch. Not so great to lose.)

Then there was Rumor staring after Spaceboy, looking completely dumbfounded. She really didn't get it, did she? She probably felt reeeeaaaaaaaal stupid about then. (She was, so it was good to feel like what you were. For instance, Séance felt psycho right about then.) .05 was looking at goldfish-man with a look of absolute fury. So at that moment no one was really very happy.

Except for him. Alright, happy wasn't exactly what he was feeling. He had built a televator specifically for the purpose of getting them to Dallas in time to stop J.F.K's assassination. Of course, he had also got some things out of the trip. Everybody else had just lost stuff. That was plain out being clumsy to him.

He figured that he had enough time for a trip back to Saigon in 1963 before any inconvenient questions could be asked. Kraken could probably guess and explain where he'd gone to Rumor, if he felt like talking to her, and to .05, if .05 gave a shit. (Personally Séance didn't think he did, nor did he care.) He wasn't worried about Space, seeing as Space had skipped off to the moon a few minutes beforehand.

It wasn't like anyone was paying attention to him anyway. .05 was too busy talking to the gold-fish head and everyone else was watching him do so. So it was with that in mind that he set the date on the watch. He'd have to be precise with this. He didn't know how much time juice the stupid watch had anyway. Then he pressed the go button on the watch.

When nothing had happened Séance figured that he'd just calibrated the watch wrong. So he duly set it again and pressed the go button. Nothing happened. Frowning he put the watch up to his ear and shook it once or twice. He could hear a few gears rattle against the walls of the watch. The damned stupid thing had broken!

The thought had floored him. That morning he'd given away his designer Gucci sunglasses to Hoa in the hopes he'd be back for them. He'd put coffee on when he left. Séance was pretty sure that he'd left his favorite jacket somewhere on the floor in the bedroom. There was a program coming on that he'd marked in his TV guide. He'd also left before fixing the damn blender.

Of course he'd known that there was a chance that he wouldn't be coming back when he left. He'd explained that to Xuan and Hoa repeatedly after all. Still, he hadn't really thought too hard about that possibility. Séance had a tendency to live in the moment. (He'd thought that Pogo had just been being him a worrywart when he told him that that was a bad thing.)

That was…not fair. He had a wife and son for fuck sake! His wife was waiting for him, even if she was dead. His wife. HIS wife. **HIS** wife.A kid who could apparently see ghosts and apparently looked like him. His son. HIS son. **HIS **son. In other words he had a family. **A FAMILY HE'D FUCKING LEFT IN FUCKING VIETNAM!**

This meant that he was stuck with his family until he got a plane ticket. There was no rush though. After all, he had apparently kept them waiting for…what was it again…oh yes. Only seventeen years. Seventeen years wasn't that long was it? It wasn't…oh fuck. Feeling rather miserable Séance looked up to whatever the hell that his 'family' was doing.

It was undeniable that Séance had seen some rather odd shit in the past few years. He'd seen the Eiffel tower go berserk because it was being piloted by zombie Robert Eiffel. Then it had rocketed off into space. That hadn't actually seemed too odd at the time, probably because he'd been ten and in France. He'd gotten the impression from somewhere that lots of crazy shit went down in France. He'd been right.

Later in life he'd seen a doctor eat people with a machine. Then there had been that rather interesting incident in Egypt. The Lincoln memorial had come to life and started to breathe fire, which felt like a rather odd incident of déjà vu. (How many times could you say that? A memorial coming to life and attacking people gave him déjà vu.)

He'd seen ghosts of people who had died in bizarre kitchenware accidents. Once he'd contacted the spirit of George Washington. After that he'd been in a madhouse for a couple of years, in which he'd seen some pretty 'interesting' stuff. Rather recently he'd seen his sister kill J.F.K with words. All in all, Séance had seen his fair share of the weird and unusual.

He'd always been comforted by the idea that nothing could get weirder then what he'd already seen. That was a pretty odd way to think about things, but it was comforting. That was probably why nothing in the world could faze him. Even the fact that a league of time-correction agents was being led by a talking goldfish didn't seem weird. It had barely made him bat an eye. However, seeing .05 pick up said goldfish and eat it was mind numbing.

That coupled with the fact that his stupid time-watch wasn't working broke something. More specifically his back.

"Out of all the crazy crap that I've seen over the years," he said tiredly as he wandered away, "That was the straw that broke the camel's back."

That's right ladies and gentlemen, he was a camel. He felt like one anyway. Séance hadn't really been sure where he was going when he started to leave the group. Now though, he had a pretty good idea where he was headed. He had figured he didn't need this stuff a year or so ago. Right now though, he did.

Stumbling slightly he wandered into a bar. The bartender wasn't paying much attention to him, he hadn't even ordered a drink yet after all. Something had caught his eye. In the corner of the restaurant rested an antique jukebox. He slipped several quarters into the machine, probably around ten, and selected a song to play on loop. Satisfied he then sat down at the bar. By the time his whiskey arrived, strains of 'The World is Big Enough Without You' had already started to play.


	4. Chapter 4

July 27, 1968

Anything that didn't really belong somewhere got boxed up. That was a tradition in his family, if you can't find a place for it, put it in a box. Nothing was spared. This included furniture, books, clothes, and just about anything that they couldn't sell or get rid of. It all went into the attic. Boxes had been piled up there haphazardly for years, perhaps before Klaus had even been born. It served as the ultimate storage facility for the Mai-Hargreeves.

More recently it had been serving as his room. Very recently actually. He'd only had it for about twenty three days, as getting his own room had been a seventh birthday present. It had also been a reward for getting good grades. Before then he'd been living in the living room. **Living **in the **living **room. Puns were wonderful.

Klaus knew that deep down he didn't deserve the room. His great-grandmother had said that it was a reward for hard work and he had earned the privilege. She'd also said something about how he'd proved that he was responsible enough for a room. She'd cited his age, as had his mother.

So he really didn't deserve the room. Well, maybe he did for his birthday, but not for his grades. The only reason why he'd gotten an A in reading was because he'd cheated on the tests…and the worksheets…and the assignments. Just for reading though…and writing…and science…and history…and playground safety.

So maybe he'd cheated quite a bit. He couldn't help it really. Klaus could see the future to some extent and he'd started focusing it lately to get him the answers on tests. It was quite a useful power if he did say so. It would probably be wrong if he just went and ignored it. Sometimes though, it did give him the creeps.

He sat under his covers with a flashlight. It was coming up on Midnight, and for some reason he doubted that his mother and great-grandmother would like him staying up that late. Summer vacation didn't really count for anything in this house. Yet, what he was doing was important, even if they didn't like it. However, doing it and facing the consequences seemed better then asking and getting told no to him.

Very carefully Klaus laid one tarot card down on his bed sheet after another. Getting answers on tests was all good and fine, but he was sort of curious if he could push it a bit more. Accurately correct the weather and stuff. Klaus was basically just trying to basically push his boundaries. Testing this power was difficult and he was trying to see if the traditional methods helped.

So, here he was, playing with fire. When he'd laid all the cards down he got that it was going to rain the next day. Not just rain, but monsoon-esque rain, Noah's Ark-esque rain. The weatherman had predicted clear skies. It looked like he'd need some more practice with the cards. Sighing he scooped them up and put them back into a neat little deck.

Then he pulled out two books from under his pillow. One was _Dr. Marland's Book of Child Psychology_. He didn't understand most of the words in it, but it was interesting. Klaus was trying to understand exactly why Binh had been, and was still being, such a jerk to him over the past few years. Perhaps this would give him some ideas so he wouldn't have to levitate anything.

The next book was _The Art of Defense_. Once more he couldn't understand all of the words, but the pictures and diagrams were pretty interesting. Klaus was sort of tempted to return it and just stick to levitating things, because it looked complicated. He wasn't very physically fit. He ran a lot, and he was fairly decent at sports. So he wondered why he was so scrawny. Hoa would say something about him being a little too much like his father. Then Xuan and she would stifle laughter.

Although_ Dr. Marland's Book of Child Psychology _and _The Art of Defense_ were both library books, Klaus had torn out a few interesting pages that he wanted to keep. Currently he was stashing them under his mattress so his no one would ask. Don't ask, don't tell. Books were for the education of the public though, so he doubted if anyone would mind. Not if they didn't find out anyway.

Why did he bother with them? Sometimes, on nights like these, he would start to wonder just that. Why didn't he stick to the things that he could do and no one else could? The answer was a little weird really. It wasn't truly something that he could explain. He was only seven after all.

However, he knew one thing, as young as he was. He didn't really like being so different. Sure, it was fun to see the people run from what he could do. It was fun to get good grades and not have to work for them. Yet, he had the niggling feeling in the back of his mind that that wasn't normal. Klaus had the feeling that his mother and great-grandmother had probably raised him a bit better then that.

Klaus was also well-aware that he was too well-aware for a seven year old. That thought, coupled with his powers, scared him. It scared him to the point that he didn't want to talk about it. For him it wasn't the Boogey monster that scared him in dark nights. It was the fact that he wasn't normal. His powers were scaring him.

For example, seeing into the future. He didn't like seeing into his own personal future or that of others. He'd tried that once as an experiment. As a result he had had nightmares for weeks. Klaus had vowed not to do that again. That was why he was looking at the weather now.

As for levitating things, there weren't many downsides to that. Not that he could see. From what Xuan had said though, levitating things at people wouldn't work all his life. He felt like asking her to prove it, but figured that his mom probably had her reasons for saying that. Not to mention that it was just plain out weird as well.

Then there was his favorite, the ghosts. Klaus loved the fact that he could see his mother. He loved that she could talk to him, walk him to school, and basically be his mother. His great-grandmother was glad too. She seemed to love the fact that her beloved granddaughter could be with them. It was the thing that he loved most about any of his powers, having her there.

However, there was a downside. Some ghosts were angry. Some liked the idea of picking on a seven year old child who could hear them. They followed him around. His mother shooed most of them away. Yet, she couldn't always be there to get them away. He'd have to learn to deal with that by himself.

With those thoughts in his mind, he couldn't bring himself to look at the books anymore. All he wanted to do now was curl up and go to sleep. He shoved the books and card underneath his pillow and slid up from under his blankets. Just as he was about to turn off the light and lay down, something caught his eye.

One of the boxes near his bed had the words written;

"Fragile discombobulators."

It was in English. Klaus had been taught to read and write the language by his mother. Yet, she hadn't written this. Her handwriting was a good deal neater. So was his great-grandmother's. He'd seen a chimp that had been some sort of guardian to his father for awhile's handwriting too, and this wasn't his. So that left only one possible suspect.

He was looking at his father's handwriting. In the past Klaus had seen only a handful of things of his father's. There were a few pictures that he'd seen in the past, as well as some small personal items. Other then that, nothing. His father's handwriting was strange and alien to him.

Yet, his father had probably gone through the same problems too, right? That was where his mother said that he got them from. He'd heard that his grandfather on his father's side was a jerk. So, he probably hadn't been able to get any help from him. There wasn't any real grandmother on that side of his family either, from what he'd heard. So how had his namesake gotten through it all?

The thought plagued him as he laid down. Klaus didn't turn off the flashlight. This way he could see the handwriting until he felt asleep. It was sort of comforting to know that someone else had survived it all. He'd ask him about it one day. He didn't even bother to turn off the flashlight when he drifted off. That way it was still on when he woke up in the morning to the heavy pelting of rain.


	5. Chapter 5

November 22, 1980

"Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiit," Séance moaned for the fiftieth time since they'd gotten back from the past that afternoon.

It had not been a good afternoon. Well, no better then the morning had been. Part of it was probably about the fact that he had spent three years trying to prevent an assassination, only to find out that it went ahead and happened anyway. That was shitty, real shitty. Call it destiny or whatever, but it appeared to him that fate had just screwed over the Umbrella Academy yet again.

There was nothing new about that. Fate seemed to enjoy screwing over the Umbrella Academy. The fact that his personal life had been screwed over by being ditched in the present was a new one. It was all because of stupid shitty time machines that break after one tiny little jump into the future. Or, as he had said before, fate was screwing them all over. (Hello bitchy fate. I hate you too.)

He was having trouble remembering just how many drinks he'd had. Séance had a feeling that it was too many though. That really was saying a lot if he was the one who was saying it. If he hadn't kept the money flowing then they'd probably have stopped serving him a long time ago. As it was he had a credit card, so he didn't have to worry about something as trifling as money.

The amount of time he had spent at the bar was becoming a bit of a concern to him too. He estimated that it was sometime in the morning that he had wandered into the bar. It was now dark outside. That didn't mean much, because it was winter and it got dark earlier. Still, it had been dark out for a looooooooong time.

Still, as long as he was drinking he didn't have to think about how he'd failed his family. Not the Umbrella Academy of course. He was talking about **his **family. His wife and kid were more family then the fucking Umbrella Academy ever was, and he'd only been with the two of them for a year or so. His brothers and sisters could go to hell for all he cared. Especially Space.

You think you got it bad because the girl you liked assassinated J.F.K? Fuck you. You weren't married to a girl who died having your son that you'd had to abandon so you could fail at saving a president. Not to mention the fact that **Space **got to go off to the Moon or wherever the fuck he went to mope. All Séance had was the bar, and it was a pretty dirty bar at that.

The song that was playing didn't help either. It was depressing as shit and it had been put on loop. 'The World Is Big Enough Without You?' That was probably the worst song for his mood in the world. He should've been listening to something relatively cheerful to make himself feel better. This song was anything but.

Not to mention that the vocals sounded terrible. It was like the lead singer was being hit repeatedly with a baseball bat. It was a song that was made for people who hated the world so they didn't care what they were listening to. What miserable fucker put this one on? Oh yeah, he remembered now. It was him. Shit.

Dizzily he looked to see how much more was in his glass. It was empty. Just like his life. (Go figure. He was starting to have it up to his eyeballs with metaphors.) He picked up the bottle, which was probably good for only one more glass. Cocking his head he started at it for awhile before shrugging.

Séance poured it and downed it in one. He grimaced. Why had he ordered whiskey in the first place? It tasted foul, like water from a septic tank. (Which actually didn't taste that bad. He knew from personal experience.) He looked at the glass curiously. Séance was wondering if he should get up and order another one.

At the moment though, the bar seemed very far away. Not to mention that walking seemed equivalent to figure skating in his book. In other words, it looked difficult and he would be caught putting flowers on Hargreeves's grave before hedid it. He'd only ever put flowers on one person's grave and she'd come back later that night to thank him for that.

Séance did grudgingly acknowledge that he would have to at some point in his life. (Walk, not the bit about flowers. Once he'd put a possum that had been hit by a semi on Hargreeves's grave, but for some reason he doubted that that counted. That might've actually been the reason why Hargreeves was so loathe to help them when Vanya was ending the world.)

Séance reached into his pocket for the cab emergency card and his sunglasses. He got the card, but the sunglasses weren't there. Séance looked around for a little bit before he realized that he'd left his sunglasses in Vietnam. Klaus jr. had probably chewed them to bits by now. He liked chewing them.

Damn it. Now he was reminiscing! Séance never reminisced. (He didn't have a lot he liked to reminisce about.) If he did shit like that then he'd end up like one of his brothers or worse yet, Vanya. Séance shuddered slightly as he thought of his sister. She was another member of his family that Séance wasn't feeling particularly warm towards at the moment.

It wasn't because she had tried to end the world. That had been fun. No, he hated Vanya for an entirely different reason. Vanya had been so stuck in the past that she had given up a golden opportunity to not be a Hargreeves. She wasn't someone you wanted to end up like. (In other words, amnesiac and paralyzed.) What he'd gotten taken away from him she could've had. It was the same idea that applied to Space really. Then again, **she** hadn't had to go to Dallas. So maybe she'd had a bit of luck that year.

He probably shouldn't order another bottle. It would only postpone the inevitable. In other words, sooner or later he would have to leave his rather comfortable booth and get up. Then he'd probably order a taxi which would take him back to the shithole that was the Hargreeves manor. They hadn't bothered to rebuild it. (What was the point? The Eifel tower would probably just fall on it **again**.)

As he thought about this his grip on the bottle of whiskey slipped. The bottle fell out of his hand and shattered all over the table. Fuck. Fuck it all. Angrily he slammed his fist on the table. He saw the bar owner look up and raise his eyebrows before going back to his work. Fuck him too.

"Hey."

Looking up, still a little dizzy, he took in the person who'd addressed him. It was kind of hard to focus, but it looked like a person in a blue silk dress wearing a blue-flower necklace and…ah.


	6. Chapter 6

October 12, 1970

"I just worry about Klaus sometimes," Mrs. Tran sighed.

Klaus could hear his teacher talking to his great-grandmother from where he was in the hallway. He'd gotten there because of disciplinary problems earlier. He was nine years old, and as he figured it, had had at least eight punishments in the last year. All together he estimated that he'd had thirty six during his entire school year. It wasn't a bad tally, except when his great-grandmother or mother got hold of it.

That was probably what Mrs. Tran was talking to Hoa about in the first place. Never one to miss an opportunity to eavesdrop he leaned closer to the wall. There was a serious of hacking coughs.

"Are you alright?" Mrs. Tran asked worriedly.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," said Hoa tiredly, "Please explain about Klaus."

She was getting frail with age. Hoa was much too old to be acting as a second mother at this point. Xuan had always told him that he should be nice to her because of that. He did try. He really did try, but when it concerned other people….miserably he scuffed the floor with his shoe.

"It…it's just," Mrs. Tran said, "He doesn't get along with the other kids, his grades are poor, and he repeatedly falls asleep in class."

"I thought he was passing?"

"He is, he is," replied Mrs. Tran, "But that worries me. He writes answers that are exactly like the answer key. **Exactly**. It's like he's cheating."

Klaus was feeling uncomfortable. He actually cheated on all his tests except math. Math was different from reading and writing. In math the numbers were easy to control. You could tell them what to do, no problem. Words though, words twisted could be used any way someone wanted them to be. He didn't like words.

"Did you see him with the answer key or other cheating materials?" Hoa asked.

"No," admitted Mrs. Tran.

"Then he's not cheating," said Hoa firmly, "And the disciplinary problems?"

Klaus could hear his teacher fidget uncomfortably.

"Well…a lot of the kids have figured out," she said hesitantly, "about his…unconventional parentage."

"Excuse me?"

"Someone figured out that one of his parents is American," Mrs. Tran said at last, "It's not a huge secret after all. Early on in the school year they started teasing him badly about it. Their parents and the war have made them a little…prejudice I suppose."

"This sounds like their problem," Hoa said coolly, "No Klaus's."

Once again Klaus heard hesitation from his teacher.

"Look," she said, "I can't prove any of this. But…kids who tease him have things happen to them. They find weird things in their lockers, or they're randomly attacked by recess materials. Once I saw a child get tripped by a jump rope."

"That's not unusual."

"It is when the jump rope flies out of other children's hands and wraps around the child's legs."

Neither of the women said anything. Klaus knew that he was in trouble and scuffed the floor again.

"That's what you're punishing Klaus for?"

"Yes."

"You said you don't have any proof though."

"Well…no…I don't but-"

"Then," Hoa said firmly, "Once again I think that you shouldn't judge so harshly. Or are you a little prejudice yourself Mrs. Tran?"

Mrs. Tran never answered. Hoa picked up the bag that she had put on the floor and walked very resolutely into the hallway. Quickly Klaus scrambled away from the wall, trying very hard not to look like he'd been eavesdropping. Easier said then done. Hoa took one look at him and sighed.

"We're going home," she said, grabbing his hand.

Under normal circumstances Klaus would protest that he was nine and didn't need such treatment. Yet, Hoa looked pretty angry. So Klaus stayed silent for the entire trip to the bus stop. Silence continued until the bus arrived. Once they were onboard Hoa took out a pad of paper and a pen. Then she turned to Klaus.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

"They made me mad," he said blandly.

The pen started scratching on the paper, though Hoa wasn't writing. It was the best way for Xuan to communicate with both of them at once. It was also easy for both of them to read what it said;

"Being mad isn't a good excuse to attack people with jump ropes."

"That was funny," he giggled, "You should've seen him try to run! It was like he was a chicken flapping his…wings…"

He stopped as he felt two pairs of eyes boring into him.

"Klaus, we've been over this before," Hoa said through pursed lips.

"So I can't defend myself?" he demanded.

"You can't get revenge," the pen wrote, "There's a difference between the two."

"Not really," murmured Klaus.

"Yes, there is," said Hoa sharply.

Klaus traced patterns on the bus seat with his finger.

"They can't be the same thing, especially for you," said Hoa.

"So they're the victims?" Klaus said irritably.

"No," Hoa continued "You're making yourself into one. And you don't have to be. You can do things that other people can't do. Isn't that enough for you?"

"Yeah," Klaus muttered, "I can see dead people, who are mostly angry, levitate stuff, which you say I can't do, and I can see some of a future that sucks. Oh, and I'm only semi-good at these things anyway. Great parting gift Dad."

Hoa faltered and looked at the notepad for support. Even the pen was silent for a few minutes. Then it started to scratch a few words. Klaus looked over and read them.

"Haven't they helped you?"

Klaus sighed.

"Yeah. I just…I just wish that…"

He didn't say anything and wiped away a few tears with his hand.

"You want to be normal?" the pen wrote.

"Yeah," he said, stifling a sob back, "I don't **want **to be the freak! I don't **want **all of this! I don't **WANT **it!"

Sadly Hoa put her arm around his shoulders.

"You're not a freak," she said.

"I am."

"No you're not," she chided softly, "You're better then them. Do you know why? It's not because of your powers. It's because you can be doing a lot worse with your powers, but you're not. Don't let yourself be a victim. But don't victimize anyone else."

Klaus didn't say anything; he just looked at the floor of the bus. Hoa didn't fully understand about his powers. Neither did Xuan really. They tried, and he was happy about that. Yet, he wanted someone who fully understood it all to explain his powers him. One day he'd go and find his father, after his mom explained where he was. He'd ask him questions, especially about the powers. **Then **he'd understand.


	7. Chapter 7

November 22, 1980

Séance blinked as he looked at his dead wife. This was a new one for his drinking journals. A **very **new one. He generally didn't hallucinate people. (Philosoraptors, however, were a completely different can of beans.) So that meant that there was only one explanation to what was going on

"I thought something was in the whiskey," he mumbled to himself.

This much whiskey normally wouldn't do this to him, so that freakin' bar tender had put something in it. He wondered if it was some sort of hallucinogenic or high-powered stimulant. Séance couldn't see the point of it though. There wasn't any sort of benefit to making him hallucinate. He hallucinated enough as it was.

"Nothing was in it," said Xuan as she slipped into the seat opposite him, "At least, nothing that I know about anyway."

"So I'm supposed to believe," he said, slurring his words slightly, "That you made it all the way from Vietnam…already?"

The bar owner looked at him again and raised his eyebrows. Séance glared at him. Shaking his head the bar tender turned away. He probably saw his fair share of drunks talking to themselves about weird things.

"I did," she said, "I had a pretty good time slot to get here. You did tell me this would be the day that you would be arriving on you know."

He squinted and cocked his head. (That was news to him.) Séance felt very out of it at the moment. Ah well, he should just enjoy his hallucinations.

"You want a drink?"

"I'm dead Klaus," she said sharply, "I can't drink or eat. I tried it once. Do you remember how that worked out?"

Actually, he did remember how that worked. It included a shitload of banana tapioca going everywhere. He remembered he'd had to clean it up. Klaus jr. had loved the whole situation.

"Okay," he said, "We'll avoid that then."

"Klaus," she said, "Concentrate. There's something I need to talk to you about. It is very important, but I doubt you understand half the words I'm saying right now. You've got to be sober right now!"

Easier said then done. He'd found out a long time ago that his psychic powers allowed him to sober up if he concentrated enough. This didn't apply to drugs though. (Hence withdrawal had been a bitch.) It was pretty difficult for him to concentrate on anything when drunk though though. So it was kind of a redundant power.

What was the point to sobering up if it turned out that he was hallucinating? Of course, there were a few holes in that theory. First of all he figured that Xuan wouldn't be like this if he was hallucinating her. She'd probably look different for one thing. (Probably less agitated and more happy-dappy.) Second off, she sure as hell wouldn't be lecturing him and telling him to sober up for one thing. Séance was not **that** much of a masochist.

"Hey," he said slowly, "So you're really here? Because, no offense, I did just see the energizer bunny walk in a few minutes ago…"

Xuan's brow creased in confusion.

"The energizer bunny?"

"Yeah," he said, "It's this great big pink rabbit that-"

"I've been around for the last seventeen years," Xuan interrupted impatiently, "I know what the energizer bunny is Klaus. I just didn't think that alcohol would make you hallucinate **that **bad."

"You said they didn't slip anything into it?!" he exclaimed, feeling slightly hurt.

A lot of the shit he'd been feeling was starting to go away. The alcohol plus someone talking to him about something besides his own pathetic life probably helped.

"Nothing I know of."

"I thought that bartender was looking at me kind of funny," he mumbled to himself, "Never trust guys who put olives in whiskey. That's just a bad sign. First off it's pretentious. Second off-"

"I don't care how the bartender was looking at you," she said, frustrated, "There's something else I need to talk to you about and it is **very **important so you have to stop talking about drugs and focus!"

Tiredly he tried to focus on her. After awhile he could see it all; the braid, dress, necklace, the complete lack of sock smile…He felt a touch of sobriety flow back into him, clearing his vision.

"Yep," he said, "Definitely not imagining you."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you!" she said.

"Don't pop a blood vessel there. All the way from Vietnam. Hm. You really are fast!" he smirked, "You got to the City in record time. Is that spirit travel…or is it just you being a good runner?"

"It's spirit travel," Xuan said, looking slightly desperate and nearing the end of her rope, "I'm dead so I can go wherever I want if I concentrate on it. But there actually is an emergency-"

"I knew that I couldn't have been imagining you," he said, "Deep down I knew it. I would've given you a sock smile if I'd been imagining things. While we're on that subject, can't I have one? I mean…you haven't seen me in seventeen years right? Don't I deserve a sock smile? I mean…really!"

"Klaus-" Xuan started impatiently.

"Just one?" he asked.

"Klaus-"

"Come on!"

"Klaus," Xuan said, her voice shaking a little, "I am happy to see you. I really am. But…something is going on. Something really important."

She folded her hands on the table and gulped. He noticed that she had a tear trickling down her face. Even though his brain was doused with alcohol he knew that this was big. He concentrated in order to will himself sober. All he needed was concentration, and right now he had more concentration then a man walking a tightrope blindfolded in a soundproof room.

"Okay," he said at last, "I'm sober. I'm listening."

"You…you have to get back to Vietnam as soon as possible," she said, "You're the only one that can fix this right now."

She expected him to fix something? He couldn't even fix the damn blender before he left for the future. Still…she was upset about something. That meant that it was something big. Big things were generally meant trouble.

"What's 'this'?" Séance said sharply, "What happened?"

"It…it's our son," she said, "he…he…won't cooperate with them. He can only trick them for so long…and when they find out that he won't…"

"What about our son?" he asked sharply.

Xuan choked back more tears. He felt a little bit of panic at her reaction. Generally he didn't get too upset about anything. This though, this was putting his brain on serious mode.

"Xuan," he said, calmly, "What about our son?"

Wiping her tears she looked him in the face and struggled for words for a little while. Finally she said;

"I think they're going to kill him."


	8. Chapter 8

July 4, 1972

The fourth of July meant a lot of things to a lot of different people. It could be the beginning of summer break. In America it was a celebration of Independence. It could also be just another dull workday too. July fourth meant something rather different to Klaus Hargreeves though. It was all of those and more. It was his birthday.

This date in particular was his tenth birthday. Ten, as he had been told, was an important age. It was the first time he had been allowed to walk home from school alone for one. No grandma, no mom, nothing. He knew the streets like the back of his hand, so he wasn't worried about getting lost. No, he just liked the feeling of being able to do what he wanted by himself.

His line of thinking might be cynical for a ten-year-old, but he did like doing things alone from time to time. He valued his independence and his ability to get along by himself. Not wholly by himself though. He still needed to go home and all. It wasn't like he didn't like his great-grandmother and mother. It was just that he valued seclusion.

Seclusion could be useful. That was probably why he wasn't very social. It wasn't like he didn't like the other kids. Well, he actually **didn't** like the other kids. Even if he had liked them though, whenever he was with them he wanted to be by himself. That might be because a lot of ghosts insisted on talking to him non-stop sometimes. They weren't mean, but they could talk your ear off.

His job also offered some seclusion. Money was getting kind of tight, so he'd taken up a paper route. Today he had off. He generally had Fridays off. Still, for the most part he did that without his mother's ghost near him. Unless she'd heard on the news that there was a serial killer on the loose that is. That had actually happened once, and she'd stuck to him like glue until the guy got caught. Still, he did like seclusion.

Especially today. He had a plan today, one that would get rid of most of his problems. Ever since the day three years ago when he'd gotten a talking to from his great-grandmother and mom about using his powers against bullies he'd been planning this. Now he had everything set up. It seemed like it would be pretty easy. However, he was going to have to be cautious.

Already he could hear them following him. So far so good. Now he had to walk into an alley. They followed him. It was still good so far. Now he reached the end of the alley. Once again they had followed him. So far it had been perfect. Now he just had to make sure that Dr. Marland had known what she was talking about in that book of hers.

"Something you want Binh?" he asked without turning around.

"Yeah," Binh snarled, "Your head, dirt."

Klaus turned around. At fourteen Binh was the oldest one in Klaus's class. All of his cronies were ten though. They looked nervous. They had probably heard what happened to other kids who had picked on Klaus in the past. That was good.

"Get ready to be pounded into a pulp," Binh said, taking a step closer to him.

"Okay."

Binh paused, looking shocked.

"**Okay**?"

"Yeah," replied Klaus, "I obviously can't outrun you in this alley, so just get it over with."

Still looking confused, Binh took another few steps closer. He looked around for some sort of projectile. When it didn't come he took another couple of steps. Klaus put up his hand.

"Actually," he said, "Can I say a few things first?"

"No stalling," Binh snapped.

"I'm not stalling," Klaus said, "I just want to know something. Why pick on me? What have I ever done to you?"

"Let me see here," snapped Binh, "You threw garbage at me, chased me with a tetherball, and lots of other stuff."

The rest of the boys nodded assent. Klaus cocked his head, as though he were generally confused.

"I only did that because you were picking on me first though," he pointed out, "If you hadn't threatened me then I wouldn't have defended myself."

Some of the boys looked a little stumped. They didn't like to hear their bullying rationed out.

"You look funny," Binh retorted.

"All the more reason to leave me alone then."

Most of the boys were starting to look uncomfortable.

"I'm surprised these boys are sticking with you," continued Klaus.

"Why's that?" growled Binh, his hands clenched into fists.

"You failed the first grade four times," Klaus said, "These boys passed it in one go. That means that they're smarter then you. They shouldn't be following a leader who's dumber then them. That's just stupid."

"Are you calling us stupid?" one of the kids piped up angrily.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Klaus lied, "I'm just saying that you don't have to do go around bruising your fists for **his **entertainment. Don't you have better things to do with your time anyway? It's not like I'm carrying money you can buy stuff with anyway."

All of the boys started looking at each other.

"I think he's got a point."

"-Yeah, I always kind of thought this blowed."

"-waste of time-."

"-he failed it four times. First grade's the easiest too!"

"You guys can't seriously think about listening to him!" Binh shouted desperately.

The boys shrugged and started to walk off, one by one. Binh stood there, his support base gone, looking defeated. It was a breeze to just walk off. As Klaus reached his home corner he took out _Dr. Marland's Book of Child Psychology_.

"Thanks," he said to the book before putting it back.

As he reached the door to his home he thought about his day. First it had been just an average day. Then it had been the day school let out. After that it became a day of independence. Now it was his birthday. Funny way the world worked.


	9. Chapter 9

November 22, 1980

"Taxi!" Séance yelled.

"You're already in one," Xuan said, looking angry.

As soon as the word 'kill' had come from Xuan Séance had jumped up from his table. He'd then gone to the nearest pay phone and called the taxi service on his car. For all his haste it seemed that the driver insisted on going like a snail. (Life spit in his face once again.)

"I know that. I just yell taxi when I want the guy to go faster," Séance explained, glaring irritably at the driver.

"This is the speed limit mister-" the driver insisted as he turned a corner at a crawling 'legal' pace.

"Extra fifty bucks if you break it," encouraged Séance.

The driver hesitated. (Playing hard to get, eh?)

"Extra seventy," Séance wheedled.

The diver stepped on it. (Money solves everything.) Séance smirked at him before turning to Xuan and saying in an undertone;

"So what exactly is the situation?"

"It's sort of…complicated," she said.

(She'd recovered from the tears fairly fast. He just had that wonderful penchant for pissing people off, making them forget everything else.)

"Everything is complicated!" whined Séance.

"This is more complicated then normal complicated," Xuan sighed, "Look, do you have more then five minutes before we get there?"

"Is six sufficient?"

"Not by a long shot. It looks like I'll just have to explain later," snapped Xuan irritably.

She gripped the seat as the driver ran a red light. She glared at Séance as he whooped his encouragement. He shrugged at her expression.

"What's the big deal?" he asked, "It's not like a crash'll kill you or something."

Xuan continued glaring at him. Her evil look was cut short when they both suffered from whiplash caused by a near-collision.

"Hoa always did say that you were trouble," she muttered to herself.

Séance had always kind of wondered what Xuan's parents had been like. He figured that they'd be nice people with an unending supply of licorice. It was a kind of nice dream, one that he'd had rather frequently. Mostly that was because he'd had daydreams where Xuan had parents instead of a crabby grandmother.

"Oh yeah," he said, "How is the old bat?"

"She's dead Klaus," Xuan said quietly, "She died three years ago in a Hospital in Saigon."

He paused.

"That blows. Guess she moved on, huh? Otherwise she'd be here chewing me out for something."

"You never were one for saying 'I'm so sorry', were you?" she said.

"Hey," Séance said, very offended, "It's not like I killed her or something."

Xuan gave him an odd look which made Séance feel very defensive.

"I didn't!" he insisted.

Sighing again Xuan said;

"You're impossible. And yes, she did move on. It was for the best. She was worried it would be irresponsible to leave us, but she'd held on for so long. We both knew that it was unnatural to hang on for too long."

Séance gave her a hard look. He tapped his fingers against the back of the driver's seat. Anyone who knew Séance knew that he wasn't one for subtle hints. (Generally he just shouted until people gave him what he wanted. It had worked in the past.) Rumors had reached his ears, however, that other people were kind of into that sort of thing.

This wasn't too terribly subtle though. It was pretty straight forward to him.

"Is eighteen years unnaturally long to hold on?" he asked, his voice low.

For a second he saw Xuan look at him in puzzlement. The he saw comprehension dawn on her face.

"Klaus, that's not what I meant-"

"Don't worry," he said harshly, "You can leave as soon as this is over. It's **unnatural **to be here this long right?"

"Klaus-"

"That's what you were thinking-"

"I didn't mean-"

"Just go if you want to. Nothing keeping you here anyway-"

"No!" she said firmly, "How come you never listen to me?"

"Has it occurred to you that maybe I don't want to hear what you're going to say?" he snapped.

For several seconds Xuan gave him an angry but appraising look. Then the anger leeched out of her face and she put her hand on his shoulder.

"I haven't just been watching over our son," she said quietly, "I've been waiting for you too. I'm not going anywhere."

Why did she know what to say? For as long as he'd known her she seemed to sort of get him. No one had done that before. (That included ghosts, and he'd meant some pretty sympathetic ones in the past.) Giving a sigh of relief Séance wrapped his arms around her shoulders and nuzzled into her neck.

"Good," he sighed, "Because I'm not ready to give you up yet."

She sighed again, this one sounding less pessimistic then the first. He rocked her back and forth for a few minutes through several more near-crashes. It seemed almost all too soon that they pulled up at the Hargreeves manor. Séance started to count out the correct cash to the driver, but he just ended up shrugging and throwing a wad of money at him.

"Keep the change," he said as he slithered out, "Consider it a tip or something."

The taxi drove off, still going pretty fast. (Looked like he'd created a speed demon that night. Power to the people!) Séance turned back to see Xuan staring at the ruins of the Hargreeves manor.

"You live here?" she said in disbelief.

"Liv-ed," corrected Séance as he took her by the hand and threaded through the ruins, "Can't live there anymore. There's pointy metal bits of death."

"I can understand that," she said, looking at the sharp metal supports.

"I grew up here you know," he continued, "Hated this shithole. We live under it now in a nuclear bomb shelter. 'Daddy' dearest bought into the red scare. Man he was a dipshit."

As he finished his speech he gestured to the manhole. It looked like the rescue mission was gaining momentum now.


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N: **__I'm going on vacation for awhile, so the updates are going to be slightly irregular. Sorry._

December 22, 1974

"IT'S NOT FAIR!" Klaus screamed.

His mother was doing what she could to comfort him. However, in the mood he was in right now, comforting wasn't working. Besides, Xuan was upset enough as it was, so she probably wasn't the best comforter. Angrily he kicked at a chair. Xuan wrapped restraining arms around him as furious tears flowed down his face.

That afternoon Hoa's health had taken a turn for the worse. When he'd asked what it was, the doctors had said that it was just age. There wasn't any cure for that. In other words there was nothing that they could do. They said that she was going to die within the next month. A year if they were lucky.

They didn't have enough money to keep her in the good part of the hospital. Ever since the war had ended business had been slow. Ever since he was ten he'd been doing odd jobs. He'd managed to juggle two or three at a time recently though. After all, with his odd growth spurt he could pass for about fifteen or sixteen now. Even so money had been very tight in the past few years. They just didn't have much for hospital bills.

From what he'd seen and heard the charity ward that they were going to put her in was much, much worse then where she was now. There wasn't anything he could do about it, and all he could think about was how unfair it. Right now he would probably have to drop out of school and get a full-time job to cope with the charity ward. That was fine with him. He didn't like school. At the same time though, he knew that whatever he earned wouldn't be enough.

Feeling weak he got up and started to leave the room. Xuan looked after him, obviously worried.

"Klaus-" she started.

"I just, I just need to be alone right now, alright?" he said, looking back at his mother over his shoulder.

She nodded, but she still looked unconvinced. Tiredly Klaus clomped up the stairs to the attic. It had gone through some changes in the last few years as he attempted to put his personal stamp on it. Binders full of tarot cards, books, pencils, and a few other things sat on boxes being used as makeshift bookshelves. The walls were pasted with drawings and the occasional stolen page from a library book.

Fighting tears he shuffled through the boxes that littered the room. After awhile he found and took out the jar where they kept their money. 40,000 dong. Klaus recounted the bills. It was still 40,000 dong. That wasn't much, especially with those new hospital bills that were going to come up.

Klaus wanted to run away and cry somewhere. He wasn't going to though. He wasn't nine anymore and acting like he was wasn't an option. Deep down he knew that thirteen wasn't such a big stretch from nine. It would have to do though. Klaus was going to have to think up something that would work. How was he going to turn 40,000 dong into a sum that would work for them?

Putting the jar down he knocked over another box. Items tumbled out and covered the floor. Swearing under his breath he started to pick them up. As he did so a long leather jacket tangled around his legs, causing him to trip. He hit the floor and gritted his teeth. That was just great. All he needed to do was trip over the stuff and break his neck. As he shoved the items into the box he noticed something.

An old photo was on the floor, its back to him. It looked crinkled, like no one had been paying much attention to it. Frowning he picked it up. There was writing on the back. All it said was the date though, September 29, 1961. Klaus's frown deepened as he flipped it over.

His mother was in the picture. It was undeniably her. Her hair was braided, like he'd always seen it. In fact, she was wearing the exact same clothes that she always did. Being dead did that to you. Yet, there was something different. For one thing she was heavily pregnant. There was also a priest in the background. The thing that really caught his attention was the other person in the picture with her though.

The man standing next to his mother looked very pale, which was saying something since the picture was in black and white. He wasn't wearing anything too fancy, unlike Xuan. At the same time he had his arm around her and was giving this odd sort of smirk to the camera. Because of the photo's age it was difficult to tell anything horribly distinguishing. There was one thing he did know though. The man in the photo looked like him.

Pausing he noticed the jacket in the photo. Then he looked down at the floor at the jacket that had nearly tripped him. Bending down he picked it up. In the pocket was a pair of dark sunglasses. That and the photo were probably the only things he had from a father who had…no. He didn't know what had happened to his father. From the way his mother talked about him though, he knew he wasn't dead.

He had to get through this. He had to make it to his fifteenth birthday. Otherwise no one would ever explain his father to him. His mother had said that she'd explain when he was fifteen. That was two years from now. He wasn't old enough now. Klaus was, however, old enough to get the family out of what was happening. He knew what he had to do. He'd probably just been too scared to do it before. The solution wasn't exactly normal after all.

Normal. That was the word that caught his attention. He wasn't normal. He hadn't had a normal upbringing. So he could use an abnormal way to get out of this. Well, it wasn't that much of a stretch. Lots of people did it. He smirked to himself. Putting on the sunglasses and pocketing the 40,000 dong he descended the stairs.

"It's going to be alright," he assured his mother as he headed towards the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked, looking kind of shocked that he was wearing sunglasses in the middle of winter, "And where did you find those sunglasses?"

He smirked again.

"In the attic," he answered as he picked up his jacket and put it on, "As for where I'm going, don't worry about this. I'm going to fix this."

"By…?" said Xuan, looking at him worriedly.

"I'm the premonition kid," he said, "What do you do when you can see the future and you need money? It's called gambling."

She looked at him; a little shocked but also incredibly worried.

"Klaus-"

"Maybe it's not the best idea," he said, "But I'm going to be careful about this. Don't worry mom. Just leave it to me."


	11. Chapter 11

November 22, 1980

Crouching down he undid the manhole. It wasn't easy due to all the clasps and locks, and he fumbled once or twice before getting it open. Shaking her head Xuan followed him down into a room that might've been the lounge. Popcorn was splattered all over the floor and a few of the tribal members were watching TV. They looked at Séance curiously.

"Sorry," he said, "No ice cream today."

Shaking their heads they turned back to his show. It took him only a minute of using his amazing deductive powers to find out that none of the Umbrella Academy was in the room. In other words, no one who could help him was near. There was only one other way to find out where someone who could assist was.

"HEY ANYBODY!" Séance hollered, "WHERE THE FUCK'S THE TELEVATOR!?"

Xuan clapped her hands over her ears and glared at him. He shrugged as Rumor, still wearing the nurse uniform she had used for Kennedy's assassination, walked into the room. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she glared at Séance. (Wow, a pissed-off nurse. Never seen one of **those **before.)

"Klaus," she said, clenching her fist, "What the fuck is it?"

"Nice attitude," he said, "And you know what it is. I think the Eskimos heard me shouting. But, since it appears that you're deaf as well as psychotic; where's the back-up televator? I know that there's one down here."

"Who's shouting?" Kraken said, walking into the room newly changed back into his uniform and looking pissed.

"That'd be me," Séance volunteered, "Where's the back-up televator?"

"Why do you need to know?" Kraken said, narrowing his eyes.

"There's a…" he said, looking at Xuan for support.

All she did was roll her eyes and look at the ceiling. (Some help.)

"There's a…uh…" he stammered, "There's a…situation."

"There's a situation?" Kraken repeated, raising his eyebrows and looking irritated.

"Haven't we done enough damage today?" Rumor asked bitterly.

Séance raised his eyebrows and Kraken glared t her.

"**We**?" Kraken asked, "**We **tried to save a president, so we haven't actually done anything. It's more like haven't **you** done enough today?"

Looking like she could kill him with her bare hands Rumor clenched her fists, looking ready to have it out with her brother.

"He was threatened-"

"Uh, guys?" Séance tried unsuccessfully.

"You couldn't have just…oh…I don't know…dropped us a note or something?" Kraken said sarcastically.

Great. His son could already be dead and here they were bickering about something that had happened **hours **ago.

"I didn't even know you were there," Rumor snapped, "Maybe you're the ones who should've dropped a note."

Kraken opened his mouth to answer when a loud crash made everyone look in Séance's direction. He looked at the lamp he had pushed off the table and smirked.

"So sorry to interrupt," he said, "But do either of you two happen to know where the televator is? That was the original question after all."

Rumor and Kraken stared at him.

"It's in the back, third door to the left," Kraken said at last.

"Tha-hank you," he said, and then paused, "Allison, Xuan. Xuan, my bitchy sister Allison. Diego you already know."

Rumor looked at him like he was insane. (Which he was.) Kraken massaged his temples and muttered;

"Fucking mediums."

Xuan, however, picked up a pen and wrote on the wall;

"Nice to meet you."

Rumor's eyes widened.

"Now that we're all acquainted," Séance said eloquently, "Will you ex-cuse us?"

He started walking down the hallway. Rumor and Kraken followed.

"You know the rules Klaus," hissed Rumor, "No ghosts in the premises!"

"You know the rules Allison," he mimicked, "No killing presidents!"

Séance could hear her seething and Kraken chuckling behind him. He opened the third door to the left to reveal a televator control room. Cackling to himself he started to arrange the levers and buttons.

"Don't be such a tight-ass about it," he said as he set the latitude, "Xuan's not just any ghosty. She's my wife you know."

Now Rumor looked like she was about to pass out.

"You…you got married?"

"Long story," Séance said, still setting the dials.

Turning around to set the levers he saw Rumor's expression.

"Don't look at me like that!" he exclaimed, "I'm not a necrophiliac!"

Rumor raised her eyebrows.

"Well…maybe I technically am," he said, "But I wasn't when I married her…she was alive then so-"

He trailed off at the incredulous looks that everyone was giving him.

"Look," he said irritably, "'til death do you part takes on a rather different meaning for us."

"That wasn't what I was talking about. What I can't get over is," Rumor said slowly, "you got married to…a girl?"

Séance rolled his eyes.

"No, to a hippopotamus. Yes to a girl. Xuan, hand me that discombobulator. The one that looks like a spork on crack."

Still in disbelief Rumor watched the tool float over to Séance. She stared at the spot where Xuan was, although she couldn't see her.

"But I thought…" Rumor stammered, "We all kind of figured you…had a thing for guys."

"That's what I said," Kraken said.

"Why does everyone think I'm gay?" Séance whined.

Then he paused.

"On second thought, don't answer that question."

"You knew about this?" exclaimed Rumor, looking at Kraken.

"Yeah," said Kraken, rolling his eyes, "I had to work with this moron for three years, remember?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why should I tell you?" Kaken said in disgust, "There were bigger things going on. Like you murdering the president for one. This moron's personal life bulletins can wait."

"On the contrary, the universe revolves around me. My personal life bulletins come first," Séance said, "Come on Xuan, it's done."

Putting her hands on her hips Rumor watched as he got into the televator.

"What sort of situation is this again?"

"I'm saving my son!" he said proudly.

The look on Rumor's face was so worth it. (Kraken's was just of irritation.) Pity he only got to see it for a minute before the televator sped them away.


	12. Chapter 12

August 2, 1977

Klaus took a deep breath and looked at the racing scoreboard. It didn't show the results yet. Why would it? The race wouldn't start for another twenty minutes after all. Time wasn't such a concern for him though. It hadn't been when it came to stuff like this and never would be. He looked down at the racetrack.

Concentrating he closed his eyes. Then he opened them. He could see the racetrack, or how it would look when the race started. The dogs were lining up. Then the whistle blew and they all started running for their lives. They turned the first corner, then the second and the third. Klaus could see it all. One of them ran into another one and they were off the track. The crowd moaned. There were two that were racing head to head. Now the crowd was on its feet. If one of them would just go a little faster-

He opened his eyes. Klaus knew who was going to win at the race. At the same time he'd just gotten the badass grandma of all headaches. Blinking once he headed towards the bookies.

"200,000 on Heo con," he said.

The bookie looked at him suspiciously.

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Eighteen," he lied, "What are you, blind?"

"You got any I.D?"

"Nope."

"Okay," he said as he took the money, "This your first time at the track?"

"Yep," he lied again.

"That's the only excuse for betting on Heo con," the bookie laughed, "Odds are 16:1. Hope this isn't everything you got."

Klaus smirked and shrugged offhandedly as if it wasn't important. What the bookie was saying didn't matter after all. He'd done this plenty of times before. It appeared that the words 'eighteen' and 'first time' were magic. 'Fifteen' and 'Five-hundred and eightieth time' weren't. Walking off he found a secluded spot. Leaning on the rail he looked down at the empty track.

Hoa had died last year. He'd known that she wouldn't be coming back for a year or so. Xuan had broken the news to him. When her time came Hoa planned to move on. At first he'd been angry. Then he'd been told that she'd had a husband and daughter she missed. They had moved on. Besides, after all she'd given him and his mother it seemed selfish to keep her here.

He tapped the rail. The dogs were coming up to the track. It wasn't with impatience though. After all, he wasn't concerned about the race. He didn't even need to watch really. He already knew how it was going to go. Klaus didn't even need the money right now, though this was technically his job. However, he had just needed to get out of the house, away from his mother. This was the only place he knew he could be alone without anybody bugging him.

True to his word, on his fifteenth birthday his mother told him what had happened to his father. Xuan had started by telling him he was old enough and then sat him down. Then she had calmly explained about time travel and everything. She said that he had warned that he might not be able to get back. Apparently that was what had happened.

There had been silence when Xuan finished her story. Klaus had clenched and unclenched his fists. He'd run his hands through his insistently messy hair. He'd looked at the ceiling, then at the floor. Finally he looked at his mother, but no words came. It was difficult to even convey what he was feeling. In the end, it was all summed up in one word;

"Bullshit."

"Klaus, it's not-"

Angrily he had stood up, fists clenched.

"After everything you've told me," he said through gritted teeth, "He was a jerk but he loved us, he didn't want to leave. It's all bullshit. Now you come up with some half-assed story to try to make me feel better. You know what? They were right. Binh and those other boys were right. They were all right!"

"Klaus!" she'd shouted, "I can prove it."

He'd looked at her through slitted eyes, but had agreed to see the 'proof'. Looking slightly relieved she'd taken him downstairs and shown him the televator. He'd been rather speechless.

"I'm not lying," she'd said quietly, "It all happened. I know it sounds weird, but it did happen."

It had been a lot to process. So he'd done something that most people would've done; he ran. He told her that he needed to think it over alone. So he'd gone out, bet on a race, collected the money, and rented a hotel room. That was roughly a month ago. Now he was just sitting there and thinking it all through, like he knew he would.

Many years had passed since he'd first conceived the idea of seeing his father when he was a little older. Klaus figured he'd go and find his father, after his mom explained where he was. He'd ask him questions, especially about the powers. **Then **he'd understand it all. Rainbows and unicorns probably factored into the equation somewhere or another too.

Over the years he'd come up with many theories about where his father had gone and what had happened to him. Each possibility seemed less likely then the last. It was like he was still living in fairyland about this issue. In fact, he was pretty sure one of his own had included time travel. Yet, he wasn't. Not anymore. That's probably why it was difficult to stomach his mother's explanation.

Now he'd gone off to have a good long think about the subject. If his mother let him near drugs then he'd probably be lighting up a cigarette right about then. It would be good to have something to distract him. Yet, right now, not even the crowds were a distraction. Everything was staring him in the face. He couldn't avoid it all anymore.

When he was only one year old LEDs had been invented. When he was seven years old the first man had landed on the moon. He himself could levitate objects, see into the future, and notice dead people. Time travel seemed like it could be possible. Besides, he'd seen evidence from the story. All the proof was there. It seemed like he just needed to accept it.

Accepting the fact that his father was some sort of time-travelling superhero was not easy. Perhaps it was just because he'd built up this fantasy about his absent father. All in all it was a pretty good fantasy. It included his father magically appearing on his doorstep and the rabbit of happiness coming with candy. He was too old to hold onto that fantasy. Yet, he knew that wasn't really the issue there.

Now he knew that in a few years his father was going to come back. It was odd now that he knew the date. It made him feel nervous. He was going to meet his father, not some day, but in 1980. Whether he accepted it or not it was going to happen. It was exciting, but weird.

All of a sudden the whistle blew and all the dogs started booking it. They turned the first corner, then the second and the third. One of them ran into another one and they were off the track. The crowd moaned. There were two that were racing head to head. Now the crowd was on its feet. If one of them would just go a little faster-

Cheers and moans echoed across the stadium. Smirking to himself he walked up to the bookie. The bookie looked at him in shock when he saw him. Grudgingly the bookie counted out 3,200,000 dong. That was a good start.

"Kit siang," the bookie muttered to himself as Klaus walked away.

Kit siang. Lucky. Everyone called him that these days. In places he frequented he was known by that name, not Klaus. Everyone always said that whenever he'd won. He'd never thought that it was particularly true. The more he thought about it now though, the more accurate it was. He was lucky.

Turning out of the stadium he headed home. It was a fact; he was going to see his father in two years. Only, it wasn't going to be that way. He smirked a little again. Klaus wasn't going to see his father. His father was going to be seeing **him**. He could only hope that the guy was ready for it.


	13. Chapter 13

November 22, 1980

"Now then," Séance said, settling himself comfortably against the wall of the televator (As comfortable as you could get in a metal box anyway), "We've got at least fifteen minutes before we get to Vietnam. It's an older model after all. So we have plenty of time to talk."

Xuan sighed and leaned herself up against the walls.

"It started about five years ago," she said, "When Hoa got sick. We needed to pay extra to keep her out of a charity ward."

"That sounds expensive," he frowned, "I know I left you guys plenty of money but it's been what? Seventeen years?"

"Yes, and that money started to run out when Klaus turned ten," Xuan said.

Séance smirked. (He had a kid!)

"Does he look like me?"

Xuan frowned thoughtfully.

"Sort of," she said, "He's got a pretty good face and he finally figured out how to manage his hair. He wears your sunglasses too. The situation right now-"

"What's different from looking like me?" Séance said indignantly.

"He's Vietnamese to start with," Xuan sighed, "He asked about you almost continuously until he turned fifteen."

"What happened then?"

"I told him."

"How'd that go then?" Séance asked.

(Honey, your dad is a psychic-psycho superhero who time travelled to save J.F.K, which, by the way, he failed at. Surprise!)

"He didn't believe me at first," Xuan admitted, "But he did after awhile. Now as I was saying-"

"Understanding kid."

"Only after a month. Then you should consider that he can see dead people," Xuan said, "He was willing to believe a couple of weird things. He wanted to come see you this year you know. He'd gotten the travel arrangements together and everything."

"Good thing I have some warning," Séance said, scratching the back of his neck, "My room is a mess right now. Not to mention that my siblings have gotten even more psychotic in the last twenty-four hours."

(Your aunts and uncles are psycho superheroes too! Let's have a party!)

"I can't imagine him liking any of them," he said reflectively.

Folding her arms Xuan looked down at him angrily.

"You can talk to him about that stuff later," she snapped, "Now do you want to hear about what's happening to your not?"

"Okay, okay," groused Séance, "I get it, I get it. Continue."

"Now that I have your permission," she said bitingly, "We really didn't have enough money even for standard health care when she first got sick. So Klaus used his powers to see into the future and bet on winning dogs and how to win card games."

"He can see into the future?" Séance frowned, "I'm jealous. I can't do that."

"I guess it's a perk," Xuan said, "He can't fly. Does that make you feel better?"

"Kind of does."

"Anyway, he bet a lot of money. I mean a lot. Consistently too. He was careful though. Never too much at one place, occasional disguises, and that sort of thing. They all call him Kit Siang now."

For a minute Séance rolled the words around in his head. (Vietnamese had way too many i's in it for his preference.)

"Lucky?" he managed.

"Yeah," she said, "and he was. He was able to quit his other jobs and just do this. Like I said, he was careful. He had reason to want to be. If he was accused of cheating…there are some pretty unscrupulous characters that run those kind of places. Oh, you've been to Saigon. You know about the underground businesses."

"Oh boy," Séance said, "The boy's gambling…he's fallen in with the wrong crowd…jeez. This sounds like the kind of shit that would've happened if **I'd **been watching him. I kind of wondered if he was going grow up being a chorus boy with **you **taking care of him."

"You try watching a teenage boy!" she snapped, "And I did a **very **good job, thank you very much. This was his only vice and he did it for a good reason. As for the whole chorus boy thing, I never wanted him to be a chorus boy!"

"You might've."

"He's too much like you to turn him into a chorus boy!"

Again Séance smirked. He was liking his kid more and more.

"Good to hear. Now, what you were saying?"

"He was doing this for five years," she said, rubbing her temples, "Never losing large amounts of money, for five years? People noticed. He wasn't so lucky in that respect, the people who did notice."

Curiously Séance straightened up.

"Who noticed?"

Looking away Xuan shuddered.

"They were very interested in how good he could do this. They were also willing to believe that he could see into the future. They approached him a week ago and he blew them off. He got attacked when he was in the downtown area this morning."

Séance narrowed his eyes. (He hated people messing with his stuff.)

"These people are going to be in a lot of shit soon," he said, "Is he doing okay?"

"Right now he is, or was when I left him. They wouldn't hurt him too badly right now. They want him to become their new source of capital after all," Xuan said, "With him they really can't make a faulty investment. I told him to stall while I get help. But…they're mafia. He won't help them. He's got these morals and all…more then you do actually. Plus, he won't help them for…personal reasons."

She looked away.

"Personal reasons?" he asked, "You have got to tell me this one."

Sighing Xuan pulled on her braid. (Odd nervous habit if you asked him.) Then she looked at him.

"When you…left, you said you got Seung's smuggling ring?"

"Yep," Séance said proudly, "Threw a car at Giang myself. Soar, scream, crash, squish!"

He suddenly got that she wasn't asking him about that so he could brag. (Dammit, he liked bragging!) One look at her expression confirmed that. He moaned and rubbed his temples.

"Okay," he said, "Who did Diego and I miss?"

"Seung," Xuan said flatly, "He's old, fat, and pissed as hell. But he sees potential profit in our son, who has just given him faulty betting information. When they find out that the information isn't real, then I have no doubt in my mind that they will kill him."

Clambering to his feet Séance lurched over to some of the televator controls.

"I'd better speed this thing up then."


	14. Chapter 14

November 23, 1980

"Fuuuuuuuuuk thiiiisss," Klaus moaned to himself.

The room was small and the upkeep was terrible. The smell was pretty much atrocious as well. Maybe it had been a poorly drained bathroom at one point. Klaus wouldn't have put it past them. Even so, he wouldn't have minded so much except for the fact that his hands were cuffed too. There wasn't much of a give, he'd tested it out earlier as he wiped the blood from his lip.

Ah yes. Klaus also didn't like getting hit, which had happened several times just to show that they meant business. That wasn't just all though. Not only had they hit him, which he was damned sure would leave bruises, they'd done it with rings on. They'd hit him with rings **on his face**. If any of the cuts the rings made were permanent, then he would be very upset.

At least they hadn't broken his sunglasses. Those had been in his pocket during the attack. It appeared that leather jackets were the ultimate sunglasses protector. It was short, so he supposed that that was what made it sturdy. So there was one plus in a sea of negatives. He was cut up, bruised, alone, threatened, and most likely going to be killed in the next twenty-four hours. His sunglasses were okay though.

Tiredly he looked down at his watch. 1:30 a.m. He'd been there so long that it was the next day. Didn't really matter though. His mother wasn't back yet, and the race had ended about fifteen minutes ago. Man-oh-man were they going to be pissed when they found out he'd lied to them.

As if to underline his suspicions he heard footsteps outside the door. For about the millionth time since they'd put them on he tried to use his powers to get the handcuffs off. For about the millionth time he realized that he just wasn't strong enough to do delicate work like that. He threw his hands up in frustration as keys jangled in the lock and the door swung open.

"Come on," the man said, jerking him roughly to his feet.

"Damn you," Klaus said in English.

"What?" the man said.

"I said okay," Klaus said, switching back into Vietnamese.

The man gave him a suspicious look, but didn't say anything. You'd think they'd have learned **some **English if they were the mafia. How did they expect to threaten American or English prisoners? Stupid mafia. Irritably Klaus rolled his eyes as he was dragged along.

He was sort of wondering how he was going to die. Were they just going to shoot him, or was it going to be worse? Just as he was contemplating how he was going to find his mom after he kicked it, he was tossed into another room.

"Shit," he said as he banged his head on the floor.

"You should watch your language," a deep voice boomed.

"Why?" he snorted as the man who had pushed him in pulled him to his feet, "So I can die **not **screaming profanities? No thank you. When I go out I'm going to go out cussing like a sailor, thank you very much."

"Ah…so you do know we're going to kill you."

"I figured it out about when I told you to bet that stolen five hundred million on An," he shrugged, "Pity I couldn't get you to go higher."

"Very noble of you."

Klaus shrugged.

"You are very insolent you know."

"You are a **very** fat fuck you know."

The man who had him by his jacket collar hit him in the back of the head.

"Watch the hair," Klaus snapped.

"You do remind me of your father," Seung said vaguely, "Your mother should've married my brother. Maybe then you wouldn't have grown up so rude and stupid."

"Rude I am but stupid I ain't," Klaus said firmly.

"Kit siang, you are both," retorted Seung, "You don't give someone of my position faulty information. Normally I'd probably just have you beaten senseless…but considering the circumstances I am going to kill you."

The man who was holding his collar shifted uncomfortably. It was then that Klaus realized that these men were probably afraid of him. Everyone in the room was. The older ones probably remembered what his uncle and father had done seventeen years ago. Now they heard that he had similar powers. It reminded him of his tenth birthday. Just like then he probably wouldn't have to do much, just use psychology. Maybe his chances weren't so bleak after all.

"Killing me's a bad idea you know."

"Why is that?" Seung smiled.

"Ask my mom," he said in the same ominous voice he'd used when he was five, "Because, you know, spirits never really do leave the earth. They stay and seek vengeance on those who have wronged them, if they know how. And I know how."

Some men started shifting uncomfortably. The smile on Seung's face froze.

"I don't believe you."

"You should," Klaus smirked, "Because I'll do it. I'll become your personal poltergeist. And regardless of what you heard, exorcisms are shit. If you kill me, then I will haunt your fat ass until the day you die which will be, rather coincidentally, a lot sooner than usual. Same goes for you men."

There was some more nervous shuffling. The man's grip on his jacket collar was loosening. Good…good. Maybe he just needed to lay it on a tad thicker. He smirked.

"Ever see _The Shining_? That's kid's stuff compared to what I'm going to-"

Klaus never got to finish his sentence. For at that moment a large chunk of wall was blown away. The man holding his collar's grip loosened to the point where Klaus could turn around and hit him in the face with the cuffs. Scars decorated the man's face as he fell backwards. Thank you _The Art of Defense__._

Just for good measure Klaus kicked him into dream land. Dropping to his feet he propped up the man as a barricade. He was going to need it. There was furniture, bullets, and other shit flying all over the place. Klaus was going to need a lot more then an interesting cuff slam. So he did a rudimentary search of the man's pockets. Finally he found the keys in the third pocket of his coat.

After he finished unlocking the cuffs he noticed that everyone was focusing on the center of impact in the room. He wasn't the center of attention anymore. Fine by him. Not even looking at what everyone else was doing he levitated a table so it knocked a few people against a wall. Everyone but them was occupied with whatever the hell it was that had caused the explosion. His new found prisoners looked at him in horror.

"Can't say I didn't tell you so," he grinned.

A bullet whizzed past his temple. The next one got him in the side and he gritted his teeth with pain. Falling to his knees he whipped up his head, although colors were swimming in front of his eyes. What he saw was that while his men had forgotten their objective, Seung hadn't. That was just his luck really.

What Seung hadn't counted on was that Klaus was uncuffed, bleeding, and pissed. Blocking the next bullet with his powers he ignored his pain and leapt forward. Using the side that hadn't been shot at he kicked Seung to the ground. Getting down on his knees he grabbed him by his shirt lapels and growled;

"And another thing. My name isn't Kit siang. It's Klaus. Klaus Hargreeves. K-l-a-u-s H-a-r-g-r-e-e-v-e-s. Spell it fat man. K-l-a-u-s H-a-r-g-r-e-e-v-e-s."

Seung's eyes were wide and bulging with fear. Klaus sighed in disgust.

"Normally I'd kill you. But I'm leaving the country, and frankly, you're going to die soon anyway. I'd also cut the cholesterol from my diet if I were you. Now say goodbye, because you get to go to nighty-night land now."

Klaus banged Seung's head on the floor, hard. That was going to leave a mark. In truth Klaus hadn't actually known if he was going to kill him or not. It wasn't like he'd ever done it before. Yet, despite all the shit he'd heard about the jackass from his mother and great-grandmother, he wasn't quite ready to find out yet.

Getting up he started to brush the debris off his pants. They were new too. Shame. They wouldn't be the same after this no matter how much detergent he used. The same went for his shirt. That was a shitload of blood. He was starting to feel a little dizzy. Oh boy, time to get to a hospital. Either that or die slowly.

As he thought about that he noticed that it had all gone quiet. That was good. Now he could leave that place and get back to packing, after the hospital of course. He was never coming back to Saigon. Never never never. If anything this event had just shown him that a new start was probably necessary. Hospital first though. He was just about to do so when he heard a slow clap start up.

Turning around he saw that the origin of the noise was a man in his early thirties. He wore a blue jacket over a lightning bolt shirt. His hand was raised, Hello tattooed on the palm. Yet, he didn't really notice any of that.

"Don't you get out in the sun?" Klaus grimaced, "You're like paper or something."

"I like to think of myself as pleasantly pale," the man answered, all the while staring at him like he was some sort of exotic zoo exhibit.

"Whatever," Klaus said, "Was that you with the wall?"

"Yep."

"Well then," shrugged Klaus, "Thanks for the help back there. But if you'll excuse me-"

"Klaus!"

Klaus turned around to see his mother running up to give him a hug. He laughed but also grimaced in pain. For a ghost she really could hug tightly.

"I'm fine mom, I'm fine," he said, as she released him.

"You've been shot!" she exclaimed.

"Not much," he said woozily.

"Good thing that I got help," she said, trying to assess his wound.

"That'd be me," the man said proudly.

"Wait," Klaus said, "He can see you **and **levitate shit?'

Klaus looked from the man to his mother, then back again. He repeated the process. Then the light bulb lit up and brightened the gaping hole of ignorance. Although he didn't need the explanation he heard Xuan say, as if from far away;

"This man is your father, Klaus."

There was a very long pause. Finally Klaus said;

"Today has been incredibly weird and oddly shaking. Plus, I got shot. So don't get mad when I say that I'd like someone to catch me when I pass out."

After that everything went black.


	15. Chapter 15

November 23, 1980

The crash of the televator was next to deafening. Xuan might be able to pilot helicopters by going ghosty, but a televator was a whole other sack of potatoes. It was much more complicated for that. He would've piloted it normally, but he knew more about medication then she did.

He didn't have enough supplies for a full treatment though, and the blood had practically soaked his son's shirt. (It was actually a nice shirt. He'd have to ask him where he bought it when he woke up.) That was why they had had to go back to the Hargreeves manor, or the underground shelter in the very least. So that's where everyone was and what they were doing when the damn televator made a rather choppy landing.

When the doors opened Séance blinked at the scene that he was shown. Kraken, Rumor, and .05 were standing in the room, waiting for him. Behind them was a chair and a table with several boxes of things in them as well as some hot water. (Wow, they got something right. The world is imploding.)

All of his siblings took in the scene differently. Kraken and .05 looked at each other in an I-told-you-so-way. The shock on Rumor's face was evident when she saw the bleeding teenager on the floor.

"Did he get shot?" she asked in horror.

"No," Séance said sarcastically, "He was given a small but expensive box of chocolates. Of course he got fucking shot!"

Rumor fell silent, obviously affronted.

"Figured someone would need medical attention," grunted Kraken as he gestured to a makeshift medical station they'd set up.

"Why thank you," Séance said, raising his eyebrows, "Any of you guys know how to use this stuff?"

"I do," .05 said, "I'm a bullet extracting expert and no one can stitch anyone up faster then me. Don't ask me how I know any of this though."

"All right," Séance said as he and his wife got on either side of their son, "I won't."

This wasn't going to be easy, but they were going to have to move him. They'd have to move him carefully too, to try and make sure that there was as little additional blood loss as possible.

"Come on Klaus," he muttered as he helped his son up off the floor, "Up you go."

Xuan took one arm and Séance took the other. Klaus blearily opened one eyelid and looked oddly at the assembled individuals.

"Who're they?" he asked.

Ah yes. That was probably the morphine kicking in there. Perhaps he had overdone it a bit. He hadn't given him an overdose though, or a fatal one at least. He'd been slightly panicky.

"They're your insane aunts and uncles," Séance replied, ignoring the glares he got from them, "Say hello."

"'ello insane aunts and uncles," Klaus mumbled.

(Yep. He'd definitely overdone it on the morphine.)

"My that's a lot of blood he's got there," .05 remarked mildly, "Know how much he's lost?"

"A shitload?" snapped Séance.

.05 walked closer to Klaus and peeled away Séance's bandages. He touched some of his blood with his finger and tasted it. Then he looked down to investigate the wound. .05 tutted disapprovingly and started rummaging inside of a box.

"Fortunately it appears he's type O," said .05, "Which we have a lot of. Now, do you want to hear the bad news?"

"That was the good news?" asked Séance, "That was **all**?"

"Yes," said .05 as he picked up a rather nasty looking instrument.

"The past few days haven't been very lucky for any of us," Kraken pointed out.

"You see, the bad news is that unfortunately all we have is morphine," .05 said as he sterilized the tool, "which you've plainly given him far too much of. It doesn't do a lot to take away the pain either, it just makes the patient sort of dazed and giggly. See Exhibit A here. When I remove the bullet we're going to have to tie him up."

That was a little too much for him.

"You're fucking kidding me," Séance said, exasperated.

"Do I ever kid?"

"You are a kid," Klaus said dizzily, "How are you my uncle again? You're too…young…small…something."

Séance saw .05's eyebrow twitch in irritation.

"We're adopted," he said, "and I happen to be older then any two people in this room put together. So shut up."

"That's…a funny phrase," said Klaus, ignoring .05's response, "I mean…shut…up. You can't shut up. It's like…like a…whatchacall…something that is…but isn't?"

"An oxymoron?" suggested Kraken as he started strapping Klaus's arms to the chair.

"Yep, that's the one," Klaus focused on Kraken, "Hey…why are you dressed…as a pirate? The stripes…and the logo? Come on…what'syourname…You're…overdoing it. And the colors…are so…monochromatic."

Kraken raised his eyebrows before turning around and rustling for something else in a box. Rumor turned to Séance.

"He is definitely your son," she said.

"I'd like to think he'll be remaining so," Séance said faintly.

Xuan heard him and moved forward to grasp his hand. There were few times in his life that Séance had been afraid. Rarely had this fear been about physical pain. The only ones capable of doing that had been Hazel and Cha-Cha, which he'd killed. Yet, every single time he'd been afraid he'd been afraid for himself. He'd been afraid when he thought he'd lost Xuan because he'd been afraid of being alone after being spoiled by having something he cared about, for instance.

He was still afraid for himself. Séance figured that he was just selfish that way. He was afraid he'd lost it. He was afraid that he'd lose his son while his son still thought that he was a terrible father. That was a pretty real fear, because when Xuan told him about her pregnancy, he'd wanted to be as far removed from Hargreeves as possible.

If his son died now, then Séance would always be a terrible father. After all, his son might very well decide to move on. Not to mention that his son was only seventeen years. Seventeen years might seem a long time while you're living it, but when it's over it's never enough. Twenty seven years probably hadn't been enough for Horror. He doubted that seventeen would be enough for his son.

Kraken moved forward and shoved something between Klaus's teeth. Klaus looked at him, completely confused. Then .05 moved forward with the tongs. The scream, even with something to bite down on which should've muffled it, was terrible.


	16. Chapter 16

November 24, 1980

Klaus woke up, and almost immediately wished he hadn't. So he made sure that he kept his eyes closed. For one thing, he didn't feel like opening them. While he didn't have too much experience in the pain department he knew that if your head feels like it's going to explode **before **you open your eyes, then it's a bad idea to open them in the first place. So he knew that he wasn't going to like it when he did.

Quickly he did an assessment. Indeed, he was still alive. However, there were a few downsides to this. For instance; his head felt like shit. His arms felt like shit. His eyes felt like shit. His fingertips felt like shit. His toes felt like shit. His side felt like double shit. In short, there was only one thing to say;

"Shit."

"Watch your language."

Going against what he knew he should do Klaus opened his eyes. Once again he wished he hadn't almost immediately. For one thing, it was too damn bright. It was all he could do to blink it away. He tried to pull himself up, but his side was having none of it. It was starting to feel like triple shit now. So instead he settled for turning his head towards the one addressing him

"You've had us scared pretty bad back there," Xuan said as she leaned forward in her seat, ".05 only told us that you were going to be alright an hour ago, and we've been waiting a whole day for news."

Klaus blinked.

"Uh…yeah. Sorry 'bout getting shot," he said sarcastically.

"As you should be," Xuan replied.

A few more memories from the previous night flooded back.

"I'm not really sure," he said hesitantly, "But…did I meet my father?"

Xuan raised her eyebrows.

"You've got a rather one-track mind," she said, "I thought that the first thing you'd ask about would be the rather nasty bullet wound."

Almost involuntarily Klaus's eyes drifted over to it. His whole torso was swathed in bandages, which to him looked at least fairly clean.

"It was bad," Xuan said, brushing away some of her hair.

"That's nice."

"No it's not!" Xuan snapped, "I thought you were going to die!"

Klaus shrugged, which was a bad idea due to all the pain.

"Death doesn't seem to matter much in this family," he said casually.

Irritably Xuan got up. He wondered what she was going to do, until he spied the glass of water by his bed. Desperately he tried to muster up his powers, but it was too late. With the force of a small typhoon Xuan emptied the glass onto his face. Now he felt like shit **and **was wet. Excellent.

"It's healing rather nicely by the way," said Xuan tersely, "So glad you asked."

He glared at her as he started to wipe the water away with his blanket. Normally he'd come up with something clever and witty to say. As it was he was just too damn tired.

"Fuck the wound," Klaus said impatiently, "Less injury and recovery talk, more father talk."

"Again with the language," tsked Xuan.

"I'm seventeen."

"I don't care if you're one hundred and twenty," snapped Xuan, "Just keep it down, will you?"

Now it was Klaus's turn to raise his eyebrows. Usually his mother was better around swearing. She had spent several years of her life in the slums after all. She was generally cool with it, which had been one of the things that his classmates had envied about him during their adolescence.

"Are you trying to change the subject?" he asked.

"Yes."

Ah, another thing he loved about her; her bluntness.

"May I ask why?" he said.

"No."

Now came the stubbornness.

"All right then," he said, "Don't answer me. Still, I'd like to see 'Dad' if that's all right with everyone."

Xuan squirmed uncomfortably.

"Ah…no."

"Excuse me?"

"You're just going to have to be patient on this one," she said tiredly.

"Look mom," he said, dragging himself painfully up into a seated position, "I have been patient. I've been patient for seventeen fucking years. The least this guy can do is actually **talk **to me."

He looked at his mother as she tugged on her braid. Oh dear, that meant that she was nervous. That didn't bode well. That didn't bode well at all. This meant one of two things. The first was that his father had decided to do some **more **time travelling over the course of one day. The other was that his namesake just didn't want to see him.

This stumped him, mostly because it didn't follow the plan. It was a rather extensive plan, forged over the past two years. There had been a lot he'd wanted to say, a lot he'd planned on asking. Yet, as the months stretched on lot of those questions were falling by the wayside. He no longer needed his powers explained to him. Hence those questions had disappeared. Klaus also knew why he hadn't been there. So in those months it had all come down to the idea of just meeting him.

Admittedly, the whole thing had kind of gotten off track. Had he planned for him to save him from gangsters? Not at all. Klaus had originally intended to go by plane. Was he supposed to get shot? Not at all. However, those were nothing compared to the fact that his father just might not want to see him. Now that meant that he was faced with a new and rather daunting difficulty.

"He doesn't want to see me," he said, voicing these thoughts.

Ceasing her braid tugging Xuan looked at him with alarm.

"I don't think that's it," she said quickly, "I mean…like you said, it's been seventeen years for us. For him it's been two days since you fit comfortably inside your baby carrier. I don't think that he was quite prepared…"

Prepared. Who the hell could really prepare for this? Klaus had had his whole life and he wasn't fully prepared for this. He sincerely hoped that that wasn't his excuse. Nervousness he could live with, deal with, and accept. However, being unprepared was a whole different thing.

Either way it didn't matter. Because after all he'd been through, **not **meeting his father wasn't something he was willing to do. Failure was very much not an option at this point. He'd just have to rearrange his plans a little. If his dad wasn't willing to make the first move, then it was just up to him.


	17. Chapter 17

November 26, 1980

"I can't find Klaus."

Xuan's frank admission startled Séance into dropping his magazine and nearly knocked over his glass of iced tea. (She snuck up behind him, no fair! He was in the middle of reading _Vogue _too. He knew she knew that he didn't like to be interrupted when he was reading _Vogue_!) As he bent over to pick it up he shrugged irritably.

"I'm right here, aren't I?" Séance said.

The glare that Xuan gave him sent shivers down his spine.

"I'm talking about our son," she hissed.

(Right, right. There were two people named that now. Why was everything getting so confusing?)

"I've checked his room, the surrounding rooms, the entire compound," she continued angrily, "and I repeat; **I can't find Klaus**."

Séance blinked and got up from his chair. (It was so comfortable too.)

"It's not like he's going to get far with a wound like that," he shrugged again.

Once again Xuan gave him a glare that redefined the phrase 'if looks could kill.'

"You'd be surprised what he can do when he's determined," she said, "Oh, that and with him thinking that his father just doesn't want to see him."

Now that was a low blow. It had only been four days for him! He needed a lot more time then that and Pogo to help him with this. Of course, Pogo was dead now. Well…he could always go back in time and- no! No more time travelling for him. He'd had quite enough of that to last a lifetime.

That, of course, only left him with his own pitiful faculties to use.

"I'm working on it, I'm working on it!" insisted Séance.

"Well work on it faster!" she snapped, "He's been waiting to meet you for his entire life! But of course you don't think about that, you just keep thinking about how **you're **going to deal with this!"

(That stung.)

"Hey," he argued as he got up, "I **am **working on it, all right? I don't want to fuck this up."

Xuan shook her head.

"I understand that and I'm sure that he's going to appreciate that-"

"-provided I don't fuck things up-"

"-provided you don't fuck things up," agreed Xuan, noticeably calming down, "But we really need to find him."

"Why's that?" frowned Séance, "He's seventeen, he can take care of himself."

Her face darkened as Xuan's left arm twitched out. Too late Séance realized what she was doing, and iced tea went all over his face.

"This is getting ridiculous," Xuan said as she slammed the glass down.

"I'll say," said Séance as he wiped off the tea.

"For all I know he could have hopped a jet two hours ago!" Xuan said, "Klaus could be back in Vietnam by now!"

"Whoa," Séance said, staring at her, "He's **that **impulsive?"

"I told you!" she exploded, "He's too damn much like you!"

(That wasn't a comforting thought. He doubted the world could handle two of him. It did give him an idea though.)

"Okay, okay. You double check the compound and I'll check the lawn, okay?"

Xuan sighed and walked down the hallway. As soon as she was gone Séance went towards the manhole and undid it. As he climbed up the stairs, he knew where his son was. If Klaus jr. there was like him, then there was really only one option. There was only one place a moody teenager would go to get out of the way. Well, only one place that a moody teenaged **Hargreeves **would go.

His guess was becoming a fact in his mind as he strolled through the wreckage of what had once been his home. Only reason he didn't tell Xuan where he was was that, as much as he hated to admit it, she did have a point. It was a rather weak point, but it was a point nonetheless. (He hated it when she was right.)

So that was why Séance climbed the three hundred and twenty steps of what was left of the fire escape onto what was left of the roof. By the time he got there he was out of breath. (Man he was physically unfit! Better then Spaceblob though.)

"Thought this'd get your attention."

Séance looked over to the ledge and saw his son sitting on it. He was swinging his legs back and forth casually, every now and then wincing with pain.

"You could've just blown something up," Séance replied, sitting next to him.

"There weren't any handy chemicals," Klaus said.

"There are always handy chemicals," retorted Séance.

After that there was an awkward silence. Séance hunted for something to say.

"We all came up to the roof when we were teens," he said suddenly, "Sometimes we had to have traffic control. And when I say all, I mean all."

Klaus didn't say anything, and Séance continued insanely.

"You might be wondering who they all are, the ones in the basement I mean," he babbled, "Rumor's your aunt, or Allison. Careful; she killed J.F.K. .05's your uncle, that's all we call him. Careful; he killed everyone else. Kraken or Diego's your other uncle, he was best man you know. You've never met Vanya, but she's got amnesia so it doesn't matter. You've also never met Space because he's on the moon so he doesn't matter either. Now, as you probably already know my name's Klaus, but a nickname which we should probably use to avoid confusion is-"

"Yeah," Klaus said, "I know. Séance. Mom told me."

"That's good," Séance said, "but that's basically the Hargreeves fami- wait! You've got a cousin, Allison's daughter. Her name's Claire but she's only six…so…"

Finally Séance's brain caught up with his tongue and told him to shut up. (What took it so long?!) So there was some more silence. Luckily Klaus decided to fill it.

"Just to get this straight," he said, "You're my father, right?"

"Yep," was his rather cheerful response, "Signed my name on the birth certificate and everything. In the normal timeline I was thirteen though, so I really hope no one was paying too much attention."

Nervously Séance noticed that Klaus was studying him intently. It wasn't a comfortable feeling, especially when you were trying to figure out what to say to the son you really didn't know. There were several more minutes of awkward silence. Finally Séance couldn't take it anymore and burst out;

"Look, I'll ask you this once and just answer me straight. Do you have father issues or something?"

Klaus raised his eyebrows.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm cool if you have 'em," said Séance, "I have 'em too. My father was a paranoid maniac who made us fight monsters before we hit puberty and ran experiments on us while we slept. Crazy shit went down when I was a kid. So lay it on me. I can take it. Come on."

Klaus stared. Yet, when he answered it wasn't something that Séance had prepared for or expected. Klaus burst out into laughter. He laughed until the tears rolled down his face. Klaus laughed until Séance was sure that all of the stitches were going to come undone. In short he laughed like a maniac.

Now it was Séance's turn to stare at him, and stare he did. When someone laughed at a statement like that, you have every right to stare as though he had just said the world was made of marmalade. (Which it was, but only on Mondays.) Had the kid snapped or something?

Finally Klaus stopped and gulped in air. Calmly he started wiping away a few of his laughter tears. (Oh good, the situation was under control again.) Then he looked at Séance and laughed some more. (Scratch that.) It was unnerving as hell. What the hell was the kid thinking?


	18. Chapter 18

November 26, 1980

He really should stop laughing, as it was probably freaking his father out and completely ruining their first chat. He couldn't stop though. It was funny as hell! All those years of thinking, of rationalizing everything out…and that was one of the first things his father said to him. He'd been getting ready to confront, and Séance had been getting ready to apologize. It really was funny when he thought about it.

At last he calmed down enough to look Séance in the eye, even if he was still choking back tears.

"You…you think that I'm going to be mad at you because you couldn't control your unpredictable time machine?" he managed, shaking his head back and forth rapidly like he was having a seizure.

"Uh-"

"You think that I'm going to be mad because there was no way physically possible that you could get back?" he asked, now having to fight tooth and nail to keep from giggling.

"Uh-"

"You think that I'm going to be mad at you because circumstances were completely out of your control?" he said, before putting a fist in his mouth to prevent sounds of mirth from escaping.

"Uh…yes?" Séance said.

That nearly made Klaus lose it and start laughing again. It was only the sobering thought was that his father actually thought this that stopped him. The man was actually nervous about a meeting that Klaus had been bracing himself for for seventeen years. Once more he was tempted to laugh. Once more he restrained himself. Laughing right now would be, as his mother would say, completely-rude-where-do-you-get-yourself-off-saying-that-to-people-don't-give-me-that-look-etc.

In truth he really couldn't blame Séance for thinking that Klaus'd be pissed as hell. He actually had been pissed as hell when he started being a teenager. He'd hated his life and felt abandoned. Yet, now, not so much. He had to tell him that before Séance started to worry that Klaus had lost his mind or something.

"Look," Klaus said, "If you wanted all this angst and stuff about how deprived I am and how you ruined my life, then you're too late. If you wanted all that fucking shitty drama then you should've come anywhere between seven and fifteen for me."

Out of the corner of his eye Klaus spied on his father. Séance was staring at him, but now he had arched an eyebrow.

"Sometimes I had nightmares for all the stuff I had to deal with," he said, "Getting rid of bullies became hard as hell because I wanted to pretend to be normal. That meant not using my powers, so yeah, that was pretty tough. Not to mention all of the other shit that went down. None of it was something that I wanted to talk to Hoa or Mom about, because they had enough to deal with. Basically I was pretty alone and I probably would've killed for a Dad to be there."

He checked his father's reaction. Séance was still staring at him, now looking rather confused, and was starting to open his mouth. Klaus put up a hand.

"Look," he said, "Just don't interrupt me, 'kay? I'm on a roll."

Séance raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

"So yeah, I was pretty self-pitying for about eight years," he continued, "After that though, I kind of realized that I have absolutely nothing to complain about. You couldn't fucking help it if you couldn't fucking come back."

There was still a look of confusion on Séance's face, so he decided that some elaboration was in order.

"So no," he said, "I'm not mad at you. I'm honestly not."

Séance blinked at him. Fuck awkward silences. They were completely insane. Just when he figured that he should probably add some more elaboration, he noticed that something like a grin crossed Séance's face.

"You know," he said, "Everyone thinks you're like me. But I'm seeing too much of your mom in there for you to be **exactly** like me. She's the sensible one 'ya know."

"I had some pretty good genes," admitted Klaus, "But what I'm trying to say is; don't get upset because something fucked you over. Shit happens and sometimes you just have to pick it up and do what you can with it. Chỉ cần đối phó với nó."

The grin became solid on his father's face.

"Just deal with it, eh? Well, you know what? Shit does happen," he agreed, "But for what it's worth, sorry I wasn't there."

He had apologized. He had apologized for all of the years where Klaus had wished he was a normal kid. He'd apologized for the longing he'd felt to have someone explain everything to him. Two years ago he would've punched his lights out and said that it was too fucking late for an apology. Then he might've proceeded to bury him alive in some godforsaken hole.

Now though, now that he knew what really happened and that his father had cared, all of that really didn't seem to matter that much. Yet, he still liked the apology. It was like icing on the cake. Even if the icing was seventeen years coming and the cake was getting slightly stale, it was icing.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

For awhile there was a sort of weird silence. If there was one thing that Klaus could do away with in the world, it would be weird silences. Before he could say anything to get rid of it though, Séance said;

"So, you kicked Seung's fat ass 'cross the room. You should've seen the look on that bastard's face. His chins wobbled and everything. That was a pretty solid eight on the awesomeness scale."

"Hey," smirked Klaus, "Your rescue attempt wasn't so bad either. I'd give it…about a seven."

Séance crossed his arms and glared at him.

"Just a seven?" Séance said indignantly, "What about the bit where I blew up the wall? It was the best explosion I'd ever done! The plaster went everywhere perfectly! That justifies a ten at least."

"You're right about that, but still wrong," Klaus said, shaking his head resolutely.

"Excusey moi?"

"All right, the explosion was perfect. I'll give you that. But there were other subtle but important things that knocked you down."

"Such as?" asked Séance, his eyes narrowed.

"Look," explained Klaus, "you got a seven because I docked three points for what you were wearing. Let me speak frankly; that was a terrible outfit. People have thrown up on outfits and they still looked better then that."

"It was from the sixties for fuck sake!" exploded Séance, gesturing widely with his hands, "Everyone was wearing that shit!"

"If everyone jumped off a cliff would you do it too?" Klaus said.

Séance paused, then shrugged.

"Probably, if it looked like fun. But what about you there? You're one to talk about fashion," accused Séance, "You let yourself be seen in public wearing my Gucci sunglasses, which, by the way, I stole from Guccio Gucci himself, and a **labeless** jacket. The utter horror! That jacket could've come from a…dare I say it…thrift store! That's not right either. That's actually a downright crime now that I think about it. You've been demoted to a six."

"They were Gucci sunglasses!" Klaus exclaimed, "They make up for everything else! And by the way, he died in 1953!"

"Another bit of ill-advised time travelling my family did when I was fifteen. One stop included the ancient pyramids. But as for the sunglasses making up for everything, they actually don't," said Séance firmly, "The clothes have to match the accessories. Gucci is a privilege, not a right. It is a right of impeccable fashion. And with great fashion comes great responsibility."

"Well, you've got me there."

That was how Xuan found them, at least an hour later. She was angry that Séance had found Klaus and not told her, and then she was angry that Klaus had run off in the first place. In the end though she ended up sitting next to them, making a comment on how it wasn't right that they both knew more about fashion then she did.

All in all it hadn't been the candy-coated image of a family Klaus had had when he was a child. Yet, it was enough. It was more then enough.


End file.
